


Quranteeny Fic Week 2

by BlueLineGoon



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apologies, Army, Beating, Brothers, Bullying, Camping, Capsule Corporation, Coffee, Cowardly Cui, Cute Kids, Doubt, Family, Fear, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Frieza Force - Freeform, Gen, Humor, Introspection, Invasion, Meditation, Other, Revenge, Saiyan Culture, Saiyans, Self-Doubt, Sibling Rivalry, Siblings, Soul-Searching, Tentacles, War, Worry, parenting struggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23264593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueLineGoon/pseuds/BlueLineGoon
Summary: A collection of small ficlets, mostly slice-of-life and fluff, with some other explorations of my head-canon and alternate timelines. Each chapter is independent and self-contained.Chapter One is canon-divergent, and entails off-screen major character death.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, Chiaotzu & Tenshinhan (Dragon Ball), Dr. Briefs/Panchy Briefs
Kudos: 15





	1. Day 1: Constantly Worried

**Author's Note:**

> Stuck inside for another week, so I decided to do another round of daily prompts. However, since this is week two, I went with two-word prompts.  
> Trying to make these a little longer, since last week got such positive feedback. I'd like you all to have something to get your teeth in to. Check back daily for updates!
> 
> Day 1: Constantly Worried  
> Day 2: Restore Love  
> Day 3: I Believe  
> Day 4: Why bully?  
> Day 5: I Tried  
> Day 6: Why Wait?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raditz arrives on Earth at the head of a Saiyan invasion force and is troubled by his brother's failure to appear during the early days of fighting.

Raditz paced back and forth, his boots beating a steady rhythm into the stone tile. He circled round and round the small balcony of his officer’s apartment in the Saiyan Command HQ. With his left hand, he fiddled absentmindedly with a small plastic toy that had belonged to the room’s previous occupant. It was a small figure of a fighter, with ridiculous hair, moustaches, and a flowing white cape.

He had found it when his squad of warriors stormed the building and slaughtered the Earth-Soldiers defending it. As a reward for his victory, when the Royal Guard claimed it as a headquarters for the Northern Campaign, he had been allowed to remain. His men, low-ranked as they were, had been quartered with the Elites.

It was a small room, and modestly furnished, but it was more than enough for Raditz. He owned little that the army did not provide for him, and the more time he spent beneath an Earth ceiling, the more he longed to be free of this wretched world.

“Three weeks.” He mused, “three weeks and I’m already bored of this place.”

But that wasn’t quite it. It wasn’t boredom so much as an itching, slow-burning malaise. His Saiyan pride could never conceive of calling this rising leviathan of emotion _fear_ , but something had been climbing up the back of his mind. It had been since before he landed with the first wave, and it was definitely not boredom. Worry, perhaps. Concern, but certainly not fear.

He sighed impatiently, and decided to go for a quick flight to burn off his nervous energy. He braced himself and pushed off the stone balcony, momentarily reveling in the luxuriously weak gravitational pull, and rose skyward. As he came eye-level with the roof, he was hailed by a sentry.

“Keep alert!” Raditz snapped, dissatisfied with the slow response, “the Earthlings could counter-attack at any moment!”

“Sorry, Commander!” the warrior replied.

Raditz graced her with a sneer. The youth snapped him a crisp salute, bringing the barrel of her wrist-blaster to his brow. She wasn’t a Saiyan, and Raditz found himself momentarily distracted by the fact.

Even though King Vegeta had decreed several of the Colonial Peoples eligible to serve in the Army, he was still troubled by the thought of relying on a non-Saiyan watching his back. Shaking his head to clear the errant thoughts, he focused on his flight and blasted off eastward, sending a quick flight-plan to HQ.

The remains of the city rushed past below, still littered with the bodies of Earth’s defenders. Here and there he recognized buildings or plazas where he had been in battles the week before. He frowned, mentally tallying the cost of taking this ruin of a city that had been left behind.

 _Perhaps it’s for the best we’ve got the Colonials in our ranks. A planet this size could be hellish to occupy_. He frowned at the notion of a garrison posting here.

There was that feeling again. A nagging doubt. Some lingering concern.

A soft beeping from his scouter reminded him that he was reaching the edge of Saiyan controlled airspace, and he came to a halt. A wide river here split the majority of the city behind him from the Earth-held remainder, embracing a large network of domes and spires in the bend of a broad and well-built canal. Across the front of the main dome, bright blue letters, scarred from ki blasts and blaster bolts, read: ‘Capsule Corp.’

Raditz breathed slowly, hanging high in the air. The wind was warm and gentle, and his frowned deepened. He could not conceive how a planet so soft and green and _pleasant_ could produce warriors of the calibre they had faced so far.

_You haven’t faced them all yet._

And there it was. Emotions surged within him, making him grit his teeth. He growled in rage, fists clenching, fingernails digging into his palms. He felt his ki rising in answer to his anger, and he drew it out, channeling the pulsing purple energy into twin balls, one in each palm. With a roar, he hurled the charged bolts toward the largest dome.

With a resounding boom, the blasts impacted the defensive shield a few feet from the dome’s outer surface. He saw the shield crackle and glow, and watched stray arcs of electricity dance up and down around the point of impact. The shield held, as he’d known it would. Not even Nappa had managed to breach their defenses.

 _Nappa_. The name drew more emotions from him, more anger, and a sharp, bitter sadness. Somewhere, down in the ruined expanse of city beneath him, his friend’s body lay, buried in rubble along with the Namekian who slew him.

Alarms blared and warning lights flashed in the fortress across the river. A searchlight pierced the evening gloom and illuminated him where he hovered. He threw out his arms wide and cocked his chin up in challenge, daring any of their warriors to leave the safety of their shield to face him.

“Commander Raditz, is everything all right?”

Raditz turned to see his subordinate, Rucola, a young Saiyan warrior with bright green hair, leading his men up to him. Half the warriors were still chewing their evening meals, but here they were. He smiled, proudly.

“Just blowing off some steam,” he said, “letting the Earth rats know we’re still coming for them.”

A chorus of approving cheers.

“Let’s head back. HQ has sent down fresh orders, and we’re going to be patrolling to the North tomorrow. Everyone get plenty of food and rest tonight.”

His men acknowledged, and turned as one, assuming a tactical flight formation and began to head back to quarters. He lingered, motioning to Rucola to join him. When they were, alone, Rucola spoke.

“Is it about General Nappa?” Rucola asked quietly.

Raditz said nothing, only stared at the Capsule Corp fortress across the river, where the alarms still buzzed, and soldiers rushed into defensive positions in the towers and breastworks.

“We still haven’t seen him.” Raditz said.

It was barely more than a whisper, but said aloud, he felt both relieved and more worried than he had been all week. The face and name that had stalked his dreams and left him sleepless for nearly three weeks.

“He’s only one warrior.” Rucola said, “surely you don’t think he poses that much of a threat?”

“You were elsewhere for Nappa’s final battle, the one that…” he gestured vaguely at the ruined city around them, “it was amazing. I’ve never felt more alive. A Namekian, his half-Saiyan brat, and three Earthlings.”

He drew a long breath. Rucola waited, patiently.

“The three-eyed one nearly had me. These Earthlings can raise their power levels at will, and he took me by surprise. If Nappa hadn’t stepped in to deflect the blow, I’d be just another corpse in this ruin. We killed the Earthlings, Nappa and I. A squad of Saibamen swarmed the Namekian but he took them to pieces.”

“What was a Namekian doing here?” Rucola asked.

“Beats me. All I know is that when we took the half-Saiyan captive, he lost his damn mind. Took out Nappa and two of his guards with his final attack.”

Rucola blanched.

“Before they died, I asked them who their Champion was. The Earth warriors all gave me the same name: ‘Goku.’”

“Doesn’t sound like a Saiyan name, sir,” Rucola ventured, “are you sure it’s him?”

“Oh, I’m quite certain.” Raditz replied laconically.

Across the river, a flight of jets rose from a launch pad behind one of the outer domes. It looked like they planned to answer his challenge after all. He grinned, and turned to face Rucola, the thrill of imminent battle banishing the harrying worry and the lingering memories of loss.

“Because that half-breed pup we have locked up is the spitting image of my father.”


	2. Day 2: Restore Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goten has an apology to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Constantly Worried  
> Day 2: Restore Love  
> Day 3: I Believe  
> Day 4: Why bully?  
> Day 5: I Tried  
> Day 6: Why Wait?

Goten breathed deeply and rehearsed his words in his head for what felt like the thousandth time. He adjusted the collar of his best school uniform shirt, freshly ironed by his mother. He could still hear her advice as he fidgeted:

“Apologies come from the hear Goten. Don’t be nervous, you’ll know what to say.”

“Don’t play with your collar, dear.” Chichi said from beside him.

“But mom, I’m nervous!” Goten protested.

“Why, dear?” Chi-chi said sweetly, “he’s your best friend, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“So of course he’ll forgive you! Just remember to speak from the heart.”

Goten took a deep breath and faced down the short path from the sidewalk to the Briefs’ home front door. He pulled his arm free from his mother’s grip.

“You can wait here, mom, it’s okay.”

He strode quickly up to the door before he could talk himself out of it. He reached up and pressed the button for the buzzer. From within the house, he heard the soft musical chime play, followed by the sounds of footsteps approaching the door. He gulped. The door opened.

“Hello Goten!” Bulma said.

Goten looked up.

“Hullo Mrs. Briefs,” Goten said, “is Trunks home?”

“He sure is, Goten, and I think he’s expecting you. Do you want to come in?”

Goten shook his head, unable to speak.

“Okay, you wait right here, I’ll go and get him.”

Time seemed to crawl by as he waited on the stoop for Trunks to come down. After what felt like an eternity, he appeared. As he opened his mouth to speak, Goten felt his words come tumbling out all in a rush.

“I’m sorry I broke your Legendary Hercule Limited Edition Number 5 Action Figure when we were playing I didn't mean to it was an accident and I'll buy you a new one and I'm really really sorry!” he was practically shouting by the end of his sentence, and Trunks stood there, blinking, bemused.

“Why did you bring me flowers?” Trunks asked

“Uh, I dunno,” Goten shrugged, “that’s what dad does whenever mom’s mad at him.”

“You’re a dumbass.” Trunks said, smiling, “I’ll see if mom wants them.”


	3. Day 3: I Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raditz has second-thoughts on his way to Earth in search of his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Constantly Worried  
> Day 2: Restore Love  
> Day 3: I Believe  
> Day 4: Why bully?  
> Day 5: I Tried  
> Day 6: Why Wait?

In the lukewarm, sterile confines of his space pod, Raditz dreamt. It was not true sleep, per se. The pod kept him in a state more akin to a medically-induced coma. His rebreather mask and feeding tube fed oxygen and essential nutrition into his body while his brain was integrated with the pod’s computer. For the youth, sent off to cleanse and infiltrate far-flung planets, it would feed a steady stream of Saiyan vocational material, war theory, combat tactics, survival techniques and the like. For a seasoned warrior, he retained more control of his faculties, and drifted in what he likened to a lucid dream.

They had laughed. Outright laughed when he told them. Vegeta and Nappa had told him that his ‘worthless’ brother would have surely perished by now. If he was alive, he would have contacted the home world. If his pod was destroyed then he was likely dead as well.

A litany of perfectly logical and reasonable questions and explanations for why he was wrong. A million reasons why it was foolish to hurl himself to the edge of the galaxy. But he could only focus on one.

_He’s alive._

“How can you be sure?” Vegeta’s voice echoed in his head, “he was ranked lower than you, how could he survive on that mudball?”

“Hope is foolish, Raditz.” Nappa spoke now, “he’s not here so he’s as good as dead anyway.”

_He’s alive._

“Why should I allow this mission?” Commander Paprika demanded, “why should I risk losing a warrior on a two year round trip on the off-chance I’ll have another ONE warrior at the end of it? That’s a long journey by pod, you may not even make it.”

In the end he had been allowed to go. He had practically begged Vegeta to allow it, and cashed in any and all good grace he had cultivated with the Prince in doing so. But here he was, and still asking himself the same question.

_Why?_

_Because I believe he’s still alive. I can feel it._

Outside, the black expanse of space slid by. He could reach out with the pod’s senses, if he wished, to peer ahead at the sapphire marble at the end of his journey. And he did, nearly each day. He did not know what he would find there, but he knew what he believed.

_Kakarot. I’m coming._


	4. Day 4: Why bully?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trunks deals with a bully. Vegeta engages in some guerrilla parenting. Bulma fight tentacle monsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Constantly Worried  
> Day 2: Restore Love  
> Day 3: I Believe  
> Day 4: Why bully?  
> Day 5: I Tried  
> Day 6: Why Wait?

“Trunks, why did you hit Brian today?” Bulma asked patiently.

“Today?” Trunks replied, “He said my hair looked stupid. He said purple was a GIRL’S colour!”

“And?” Bulma chided gently, “so what if he thinks it’s a girl’s colour? What does Brian know about anything?”

“But…but…” Trunks stammered.

His hands balled into tight fists and tears began to leak from his eyes.

“He’s so MEAN!” Trunks wailed, “and it’s not fair! You always tell me to be nice and to stand up for people and he’s not just mean to me he’s mean to EVERYBODY!”

Bulma enveloped Trunks in a warm embrace, making soothing noises while his shoulders shook and his tears ran onto her shoulder. When he subsided, sniffling, Bulma took him at arm’s length, squatting down at eye level.

“Listen, kiddo.” She said, smiling, “I’ll go have a talk with the Principal and get a hold of Brian’s mom. I’ll get this sorted out. Now, go and play with Goten, I’ll call you when dinner gets here.”

Trunks smiled, wiped his nose on his sleeve, and gave Bulma a quick kiss on the cheek before bounding off for the back yard, where Goten waited. She stood up and pulled out her phone to make the appropriate calls when it rang, interrupting her.

“Dad? What’s up?” She said into the receiver, “Lab Six? Shit. I’ll be right there.”

She snapped the phone shut and strode from the house, heading for the labs. In the quiet kitchen, Vegeta stood next to the fridge, drinking milk from the carton, a frown etched deep into his features. He finished the carton and dropped it into the recycler before leaving the kitchen and heading into the basement. From a small, unassuming locker, he removed a pair of capsules. Outside, he took to the air with a gentle burst of ki and made his way quickly across town to the Satan Estate.

He landed outside the front door and immediately found who he was searching for.

“Green Man!” He barked, “I required your assistance in a…diplomatic endeavour.”

Piccolo cocked one eye open from where he floated, legs crossed, meditating beneath a tree. His eyes held an amused, curious light.

“I’m listening.”

Mr. Hendorff awoke with a start, from a confusing dream about his receptionist Suzy and a talking bowl of jelly who wanted to eat them both. He looked around the room, scanning for any hostile desserts, and jumped when he saw two figures looming over the foot of his bed. They wore matching sets of armour, in yellow, white and pale blue. One was tall, his head nearly brushing the ceiling, with green skin and pointed ears and teeth. The other was shorter, but Brian could see his eyes through the helmet he wore, and they scared him.

“Are…are you aliens?” Mr. Hendorff asked, meekly.

“Oh, yes indeed Principal Hendorff.” Vegeta growled.

He made a small, voiceless gasping noise, clutching his bedspread.

“And my tall, green friend here is the kind of alien who tends to eat humans when he hears loud noises, like shouting for help.”

“What do you want?” Mr. Hendorff whispered, turning pale and hiding his lower face with the covers.

“We’ve heard some rumours about your son, Brian.” Piccolo said, his voice low and menacing.

“My…my son…?”

“Heard he’s quite the little tyrant at school.” Vegeta said.

Vegeta walked around the edge of the bed and leaned in, bringing the faceplate of his Frieza Force helmet right up to the terrified man’s nose.

“And my friend and I have a particular dislike for tyrants.”

Bulma stared into the depths of her tenth cup of coffee, trying to remember to blink. Between her and her father working through the night alongside an army of technicians, they had barely managed to close the wormhole one of their experiments had torn into the sub-basement of lab six before alien squid monsters rampaged through the devoured he entire planet. It had taken nearly twenty-four hours, and by the time they’d managed to close the wormhole her entire lab was covered in ink and half her interns had been groped by errant, inter-dimensional tentacles.

“Poor Jayda.” Her father mused, thinking the same thoughts as her.

“Hrm?” Bulma queried.

“When that things got a hold of her, I’ve never heard such screams.”

Bulma had a flash of crystal-clear recollection: a discreet HR meeting with Jayda regarding incognito mode and appropriate use of office bandwidth.

“Uh, yeah, I think she’ll…get over it.” Bulma said, filling herself with coffee.

She held out the cup and her automated coffee drone, X-PR330 whirred over and hovered above the mug.

“Sumatran Single-Origin, or Ethiopian Blend?” Their robotic voice asked pleasantly.

“Ethiopian. Thanks, Express.” She replied.

Bulma brought the steaming coffee to her lips and gulped it down, ignoring the tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. Her brain felt like a tennis ball, fuzzy and rubbery. Every other thought seemed to just bounce off, and she struggled to force down a plate of eggs, pancake and orange slices.

“Was there something I had to do?” Bulma asked her father.

“I’m not sure, dear, yesterday’s a bit of a blur for me.

She heard the door open and Trunks called out, announcing his return.

“Shit, I forgot to call…” Bulma began.

But Trunks bounded into the kitchen and wrapped her in a tight hug before she could say anything.

“The Principal, Mr. Hendorff,” Trunks began breathlessly, “made us all go into the big assembly hall today and talked to us about bullying, and then afterwards Goten and I had to go to his office and I thought we were in BIG trouble ‘cuz I punched Brian yesterday.”

“Oh? And were you?”

“NO!” Trunk beamed, “he apologized to me and Goten for Brian, and then made Brian apologize, and then Brian gave us each an apology letter.”

“He wrote letters, that’s nice.”

“Yeah, but I said I didn’t want it and if he was REALLY sorry then he should eat a bug to prove it. And d’you know what? HE DID!”

Trunks ricocheted around the kitchen, grabbing bits of breakfast and a glass-bottled cola from the fridge before disappearing up to his room, leaving Bulma reeling in the suddenly silent kitchen.

“Dad, did you talk to the Principal yesterday?” She asked.

“Didn’t have the time, my dear. And you mother’s off on her Swiss Spa Weekend, so you know I wouldn’t have remembered anyway without her to remind me.”

She looked up at the sound of the fried opening, and saw Vegeta retrieve a synthesized protein drink.

“Did you…do anything, Vegeta?” She asked slowly.

Vegeta didn’t reply immediately, slowly gulping down the bottle’s thick contents. He finished is long drink, and wiped at the corner of his mouth.

“I dislike bullies.”


	5. Day 5: I Tried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tien does some soul-searching after the Cell Games, and grapples with the legacy of Crane School and the implications of Super Saiyans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Constantly Worried  
> Day 2: Restore Love  
> Day 3: I Believe  
> Day 4: Why bully?  
> Day 5: I Tried  
> Day 6: Why Wait?
> 
> I was inspired to expand this short piece into a longer work. Check it out: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23342605/chapters/55919074

Tien sat beneath his favourite spruce tree and stared up through its sparse branches at the night sky. The mountain valley stretched out below him, painted in blues and deep purples from the bright moonlight. He could see, far below, where Chiaotzu had a small fire going outside their camp.

_Camp?_ He thought, smirking, _it’s almost feeling like home these past few years._

The high mountain pass, hidden deep in the forbidding peaks north of Metro North, had been a secret training facility run by Crane School, to give it’s more advanced Ki-capable students a venue to train unrestrained. The School had long since folded, and Tien, though he had considered re-opening it under his own code and auspices, had yet to do so. In the years since his former master’s death, he had used this hidden valley as a place to meditate and train. Though the facility was old and slowly falling to ruin, he made use of it. A part of him refused to repair or rebuild, a small corner of his heart still bitter at how he had been used and mislead by Shen.

He and Chiaotzu had been spending more and more time here in recent years. Though his last visit was before the Cell Games, he realized that he had come to rely on the valley as a sanctuary. It was less and less like a second-home, and more and more like his only one. Rising from his mediations, he began the hike down the rocky trail to camp. He could have flown, but chose instead to walk, reaching out with his finely honed senses to pick the safest way down.

_That, at least, I appreciate_ , he thought, _even something as simple as a hike, Shen viewed as a training exercise._

“Always be on guard!” He could still hear Shen’s voice, reprimanding him, “always expect attack! You must learn to make every waking moment a drill in preparedness and defense!”

Though Shen had ill-treated both he and Chiaotzu, and lied to them, he **had** been their Master. And despite his faults, Tien had to admit that he had taken care of them, and under his tutelage he had attained new heights of strength.

“Not that it mattered, in the end.” He said aloud, nearly startling himself.

“What didn’t matter, Tien?’ Chiaotzu asked.

While his mind had wandered, his feet had carried him, almost unbidden, back to camp.

“Just reflecting. Tien said.

He took a seat next to the fire and accepted a cup of tea from Chiaotzu with gratitude. His young friend sat across from him, and fixed Tien with a stare indicating he was waiting for him to continue.

“I had started to suspect it was hopeless, but the Cell Games cemented it. I lost, Chiaotzu. Even after all these years, my main ambition, my sole purpose, was to surpass Goku. But what I’ve seen him do, hell, what his son can do…”

They sipped tea in silence.

“I tried, Chiaotzu, I really did.” Tien felt tears welling up from some deep place within him.

“Don’t cry, Tien!”

Chiaotzu floated around the fire and wrapped Tien in a hug, barely encompassing his deltoid and upper arm with his child-like body. Tien returned the hug.

“You did the best you could.” Chiaotzu said, “you worked harder than anyone! But in the end, you were only human. Super Saiyans, Namekians, Androids…we never stood a chance.”

“No.” Tien said, rising to his feet. “No, I refuse to accept it!”

The last words were a roar of defiance to the mountain peak, high above. The only answer was the wind, cold and whispering through the evergreens. Tien felt his anger and his self-pity subside, coalescing into a newfound resolve. He rose into the air, drawing on his Ki. It flowed readily. He always found the mountain air invigorated him.

“Get clear, Chiaotzu!” Tien shouted.

Chiaotzu responded, grabbing their kettle of fish from the fire where it bubbled noisily, and zipping away towards the treeline.

Tien steadied himself in the air and face the halfway crumbled old dojo where Shen had drilled them, and the rest of his assassin pupils. He grit his teeth and channeled his Ki into his hands. He drew on his anger at Shen, his frustration with himself, his slow-fading terror of the Androids; he drew it all into a glowing, golden sphere in his palms.

With a roar, he hurled the attack downwards and the whole valley lit up in a dazzling array of golds and yellows. The blast levelled the old Crane School Compound and blew away the remnants of their campfire. The freezing glacial river, nearly twenty metres away, flowed backwards for a few moments, before rushing back down its course. Chiaotzu peeked out from behind a canvas-wrapped sled, huddled behind their worldly possessions near the trees.

“Tien?” Chiaotzu asked uncertainly.

“I’m sorry Chiaotzu.” Tien said, flying down to land next to his friend.

“I understand.”

Tien turned to see the first grey lines of dawn appearing on the horizon. He smiled.

“What now?” Chiaotzu asked.

“Now?” Tien replied, hefting a newly-downed tree and placing it between them as a table. “Now we eat.”

_And tomorrow_ , he thought, _tomorrow we start building. I may not be a Super Saiyan, or an Android, but I’ll be damned if I don’t push myself to keep up with these monsters. There’s always another level to be reached, another barrier to be surpassed._

“Tomorrow,” he said aloud, serving the two of them from the kettle, “we start rebuilding this place. A new Crane school. Somewhere for us poor, lowly humans to train.”

“Yay!” Chiaotzu laughed in delight, “Master Tien has a nice sound to it!”

Tien looked around the valley as the sunrise began the pour colour into it. The old buildings were gone, and a broad stretch of the rocky valley reduced to smoldering crater. Tien flexed his fingers, already feeling the old itch that could only be scratched by pushing his body to its absolute limit.

“Remind me to give Bulma a call.” Tien said, smiling fiercely. “I’ve always wanted to get my hands on one of her Gravity Chambers.”


	6. Chapter 6: Why Wait?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Young Vegeta learns a valuable lesson from his comrades in the Frieza Force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: this chapter contains mild violence and language.
> 
> Day 1: Constantly Worried  
> Day 2: Restore Love  
> Day 3: I Believe  
> Day 4: Why bully?  
> Day 5: I Tried  
> Day 6: Why Wait?

A young Vegeta sat alone at one end of a long table, the hubbub of the Frieza Force mess hall swirling around him. Two or three languages floated through the air, punctuated liberally with curses and crude jokes. Listened closely, he could hear a fistfight happening quietly in the far corner. If he closed his eyes, it almost felt like home. It still stung to think about, but he buried the memories of Planet Vegeta down deep, and pressed on.

With a clatter, a mess tray was dropped onto the table across from him, splattering trace amounts of neon green nutrient paste onto his spotless white gloves. He looked up, a rebuke building on his lips.

“Oops, sorry Vegeta.” Cui sneered, dropping into the seat opposite him.

Cui’s freshly applied Elite Seal gleamed from the breast of his armour and he waited for Vegeta to notice it. Vegeta made show of scraping the last traces of his meal from his tray before heaving a contented sigh and leaning back.

“Oh, Cui.” He said, “didn’t see you there.”

“I’m surprised you can see over the table.” Cui fired back.

Vegeta sneered.

“How was Planet Gravlax?” Cui asked, “heard your team ran into some trouble with the locals.”

“You heard wrong.” Vegeta said bluntly, “wiped out their defenses in a day and a half. Barely broke a sweat.”

It was only half a lie. **He** was nearly unharmed. Nappa and Raditz had been wounded in the fierce fighting but he had emerged with only minor injuries.

“Well I’m just saying, you’d better be careful out there.”

Vegeta paused and deigned to look into Cui’s purple, piscine face. The soldier leered back, something murderous in his eyes.

“I’m touched you’re so concerned about me, Cui.” Vegeta said.

“Don’t flatter yourself. There’s not many Saiyans left now, little Prince. One wrong step on a hostile planet and that number might just drop to zero.”

“Bet you’d just love that.” Vegeta snapped, “you could go back to convincing yourself you’re top dog around here.”

Cui growled warningly, but Vegeta carried on.

“Just because I’m a teenager you think you can scare me? I’m the Prince of All Saiyans, you bloated guppy!”

“You’re gonna wanna take that back, Monkey Boy.” Cui said, his voice low.

“Oh please,” Vegeta waved dismissively, “why don’t you go offer your ass to Zarbon and see if you can’t get another promotion?”

Cui slammed his hand on the table and leaned in, looming over Vegeta with hate-filled eyes.

“You watch your back, little Prince.” He snarled, “one of these days I’m going to be real close by when you find yourself all alone on some nameless rock, and I’ll make it your grave.”

Vegeta stood, tilting his head up until he was nearly nose-to-nose with the hulking humanoid.

“Why wait?” Vegeta mocked, “I’m right here.”

“Hm.” Cui said, “good point.”

Cui gestured and Vegeta suddenly found his arms seized from behind, and Cui began raining blows down on his face. He felt the impacts shake his body, wrenching his head from side to side. He heard his nose snap, and felt blood running over his swollen lips. Cui hit him in the stomach and he doubled over, only to meet Cui’s knee coming up. The blow snapped his head back, and one of his unseen captors seized a fistful of his hair.

“Learned your lesson, monkey boy?” Cui demanded.

“Too scared to face me man to man?” Vegeta spat, “or man-to-fish? Whatever the hell you are, all I’ve learned so far is that you’re a coward.”

“Wrong answer, Vegeta.”

Through one eye, he saw Cui raise his hand, a ball of bright blue Ki building in the palm, ready to deliver the deathblow.

Suddenly, a sharp, ear-splitting whistle froze everyone in the room.

All eyes turned to the mess hall entrance, where Zarbon stood, scowling at the paused brawlers.

“Enough.” He spat coldly, “any Frieza Force soldiers caught brawling will be flogged for insubordination.”

Zarbon stared pointedly at Cui until he subsided, and the hands holding Vegeta let him go. He collapsed to the ground, coughing blood, lost in his pain. Zarbon departed without a word, and Cui spat on Vegeta before departing.

As he floated, nearly insensate, in the regeneration tank, Vegeta reflected on the day’s events. It had not gone well, he decided. Though there was plenty to learn from his encounter with Cui and his goons. He made note of two things to remember: One, he would never eat without his back to a wall again. And two, he was going to turn that fishy bastard into sushi one day.


End file.
